


Erlösung

by 264feet



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Death, Depression, F/F, Future Fic, OT3, Suicide, Wife Squad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25233442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/264feet/pseuds/264feet
Summary: Reasons to live,Dorothea writes.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dorothea Arnault/My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Erlösung

**Author's Note:**

> Satomi = f!Byleth. This fic is inspired by but noncanon to Jinjojess's Wife Squad 'verse.

_Reasons to live,_ Dorothea writes.

* * *

_Heidelinde_

“Auntie!”

Dorothea looks up from her book. “Yes, sweetheart?”

Heidelinde has a bamboo fishing pole slung over her shoulder and a marble-sized fish in her fingers. The hook dwarfs the fish itself, but Dorothea applauds all the same. Satomi isn’t far behind, her smile from ear to ear.

“Wow, what a great job!” she coos. “Did you catch that all by yourself?”

“Uh-huh!” Heidelinde beams.

In her most private moments, often after several glasses of wine, Satomi had mentioned a boon from the goddess: she could pause time, consider the battlefield as if appreciating an oil painting; then, a dagger that plunged into her chest would come clean out, the wound closing neatly, and Satomi would re-appear seconds earlier. She would then proceed to separate her opponent’s head from his shoulders.

That boon had long since vanished, as had need for it. Time slows down for Dorothea all the same.

Heidelinde’s laugh carries through the porch to the indoors. Dorothea can sense Edelgard leaning in to listen more closely. She had always said it's one of her favorite sounds.

The fact that Heidelinde showed Dorothea the fish first had only been because of convenience. Dorothea had been sitting in her path; that’s all. If she pulled back the threads of time, hid behind a wall, Heidelinde would have run inside to show Edelgard her prized fish. She wouldn’t have missed a thing.

A sense of disconnect strikes Dorothea through the heart. She had asked long ago for Heidelinde to refer to her as ‘Auntie’. There’s no biological connection. She’s not a real parent.

Dorothea’s not sure what would hurt worse if she were to die: if Heidelinde would cry or if she wouldn’t.

* * *

_Heartbeat_

Dorothea rests her head on Satomi’s chest.

Satomi’s pulse is music to her ears, but more than that, it feels like home. As a songstress, singing a particular piece brings Dorothea back to particular places. She could sing an old lullaby that she used in the streets to lull herself to sleep in the alleys and feel her head on the cobblestone. She could sing her first debut piece in the opera and feel thousands of eyes upon her.

There’s no song associated with Satomi’s heartbeat, per se, but she finds herself humming appreciatively all the same.

The door to the bedroom opens. Edelgard has been gone for the past several days on work. When she enters, Satomi’s pulse quickens.

By the time Edelgard has settled in and she and Satomi have caught up, joining the snuggle pile, Satomi surprises Dorothea with something she hadn’t even noticed herself. “Are you okay, D?”

“Yes, why?”

“You stopped humming.”

Dorothea pauses.

“Would you like me to hum for you? Sing?” She proceeds to wink. “Scream?”

Deflecting has become so easy, it’s like a game. Satomi would have pushed further if they were alone together, but Edelgard has begun to protest out of embarrassment.

Then again, if they were alone together, Satomi would still be playing her song.

* * *

_Hairstyling_

When they first got married, Dorothea brushed Edelgard’s hair in the morning. 

Edelgard’s hair is a source of pride for her. Dorothea loved to be a part of its upkeep. 

After a year, Dorothea brushed Edelgard’s hair every other morning.

Life can’t always be idyllic. Sometimes, Edelgard is called out of bed by Hubert in the middle of the night to address an urgent matter in the Empire. Sometimes, she never returns to bed at all.

After several years, Dorothea brushed Edelgard’s hair about once a month.

“Do you feel like we’re spending less time together, Edie?”

Edelgard brushes her hair, staring in the mirror. She glances back at Dorothea’s reflection. If she knows anything is wrong, her face doesn’t betray it.

“I’m afraid you might be right. I truly offer my apologies.”

Edelgard puts down the brush. She turns to look at Dorothea directly. “Dear, is the Melancholy affecting you again?”

“The Melancholy isn’t the only reason I want to spend time with my wife.”

“I did not mean to insinuate such a thing, I just thought--”

Hubert opens the door. “Lady Edelgard, a representative from the former Holy Kingdom of Faerghus demands an audience with you. It’s regarding uprisings in the territory.”

Edelgard glances between Dorothea and Hubert. She bows her head in a quick apology before following him out of the room.

It’s easier to apologize to Dorothea later than to solve issues now. _Ask for forgiveness, not for permission,_ Manuela had taught her. So why is Dorothea being so selfish? Edelgard doesn’t just belong to her. She belongs to Satomi, for one. And to Heidelinde. And to the people, as their beloved ruler.

How could Dorothea ask for so much? 

She stares at the ceiling until something possesses her to rise. She walks to Heidelinde’s room.

Satomi has her little girl sat up on a stool in front of her little vanity, combing her hair. She glances behind her. “Morning, D.”

“Morning, Auntie!”

Dorothea offers a smile. “Good morning, lovelies. I’m just about to head back to bed.”

She closes the door. She does head back to bed. She lies down. She doesn’t sleep.

* * *

_Happiness_

Hubert pulls her aside. Dorothea eagerly searches him for signs of blades or poison. None are for her.

“When is the last time you were happy, Ms. Arnault?”

“Why, just seconds ago, when you pulled me aside for a nice chat.”

“Dorothea. Do not make me ask again.” His tone is severe as always, but his eyes betray a side of him she rarely sees.

How strange that, years after the war ends, she finds herself craving bloodshed. She can recall the words she’d need to summon a fireball to rend Hubert’s flesh from his face; they dance on the tip of her tongue.

Other classmates fought a similar invisible foe to her Melancholy, a term Satomi had coined as ‘post-war stress’. Dorothea supposed she just felt as if the ‘post-’ part of that phrase never hit her.

Dorothea’s still smiling. She doesn’t know how to stop.

“What if I told you that I can’t answer the question?”

Hubert averts his eyes.

“When’s the last time you were happy, Hubert?”

“Dorothea, do not turn the question back on me. We both know that is not the matter at hand.”

“Genuinely, I ask. It may help me.”

Hubert purses his lips.

“I am happy every day. I may not show outward signs of jubilation, such as carousing at taverns, but I find great fulfillment in my service to Lady Edelgard.”

“I wish I were you, Hubert.”

“Is that because of my relationship with her?” Hubert asks, and Dorothea knows what objections he’ll raise-- even if he doesn’t share romantic feelings for Edelgard, he’ll say that she’s married to Edelgard, she cuddles Edelgard, she has sex with Edelgard, she serenades Edelgard, she kisses Edelgard’s tears away, she has a daughter with Edelgard, she has a future growing old with Edelgard. The life of a humble servant can’t compare.

“Finding fulfillment.”

Hubert can’t raise an objection.

“You have no power over me,” Dorothea says, calmly. “You’re used to threatening others with pain, with death. My relationship to those concepts is closer than your flirtation with them has ever been. You know that when I kill myself, Edelgard will be devastated. That thought makes you want to do something to stop that. What will you do? Kill me?” She begins speaking more and more manically. “Or will you threaten me with life? Will you monitor me constantly, snatch the noose from my hands? Will you put me in a birdcage so Edelgard can admire me in her free moments?”

“Dorothea?”

“What?” she snaps.

“You did not say ‘if’. You said ‘when’.”

Dorothea realizes it moments later. She had been careful to only say ‘if’ she kills herself. So careful. When had that changed? Had it been a moment, sitting on the porch, snuggling with Satomi, brushing Edelgard's hair? Or had it been a 'when' for her all along, only to slip out when she wasn't forcing herself to phrase it as an 'if'? 

Uncharacteristically, Hubert holds her. He’s not restraining her, although his experience with hugs is so limited that he might as well be. Her back aches, her arms hang limp by her sides. It’s like he’s trying to speak another language by crudely mimicking the sounds.

She holds him back, desperately, and begins to sob.

* * *

Dorothea’s quill hovers over the page. Ink bleeds onto the parchment. She drops the quill moments later.

Ah, she realizes. So the time has come.

She had been adding to this list for so long, but has precious few entries. She told herself today that she would drink the antidote if any entries convinced her to do so. It looks like even if she wanted to, now she’s unable to.

It’s a gorgeous day outside. She has the perfect view of Satomi, Edelgard, and Heidelinde playing. It’s selfish of her, selfish to the core, to die here. She knows it. She’ll be discovered so soon after she’s gone. But what else has she ever been but selfish? A taker, she has everything she wants and wants more more more until she realizes that she will only be happy with nothing at all.

Dorothea regrets that it doesn’t hurt more. Death on the stage is a long process, a beautiful process, and here she is just gurgling as her nerves shut down. And it does hurt, it does burn, but the birdsong soothes her ringing ears until she can’t hear anymore. She deserves pain. She deserves punishment for her transgressions, for the pain she’ll cause simply by ending it as she so craves.

Maybe she’ll be judged as she deserves if there is a goddess besides the one playing outside. 

Maybe she’ll be forced to relive the pain she’s doubtlessly caused others throughout her meager existence.

Maybe she’ll find relief in knowing, not just imagining, how much others despise her, how much of a weight off their minds it is that she’s gone.

Maybe she’ll--


End file.
